The Distance
by Saeto
Summary: Alex confronts Karen in the elevator.  Not as gory as you would expect.


His words stopped her cold. In the enclosed space she could almost_ feel_ his anger; it vibrated through the elevator car along with the strobing lights, emanating off of him, almost a physical presence of its own. Alex was leaning dangerously close, his breath on her ear. She shuddered, a breath escaping her as she closed her eyes in defeat.

Alex seemed to be waiting for something- a reply, or a terrified reaction; she didn't move, didn't make another sound, and he leaned back slightly, fabric and leather brushing softly against each other. He took a step to the side, an audible thud, and there he was in her peripheral vision, and she couldn't pretend anymore. She turned her head slightly, trying to compose her expression, knowing how utterly she was failing.

"I can hear your heart," Alex muttered, voice gruff, an undertone of barely-contained rage just below the surface. His eyes were narrowed, the rim of his hood casting various shadows as it caught the warning lights of the elevator: red, then white, then red, ever shifting. "Turn around."

She did as she was told, only hesitating for a split-second, drawing in a deep breath as she faced him. He brought one arm up and violently punched the elevator wall to the side of her head, teeth bared, not even noticing the way the metal buckled under his fist, the echoing _clang_ that lingered after all movement had stilled. She met his gaze, finally, her fear drained away by acceptance; of death, and the fact that this creature was no longer than man she had loved.

Alex had been brilliant, but not exactly the kind of man women would line up to date. He had been self-absorbed and distant, but never violent- never violent, because violence was beneath a man of his stature, of course. Her Alex had been good at pretending, twisting the corners of his mouth upwards in the pretense of a smile, but she had never been fooled by it.

Now, the fruits of his research was standing before her, a creature of burning anger, of hatred for the world that hated it in turn- a creature so like its creator, and yet so different. Where Alex had been impassive, this creature wore its heart on its sleeve; where Alex had been intelligent, this creature was driven by instinct alone; where Alex had been scheming, his creation was childlike and emotional, Karen's betrayal managing to hurt where so many bullets and missiles had failed.

What he had known of her had been stolen from her Alex, yet he had shown a strangely lingering loyalty to the idea of Karen Parker, ex-girlfriend and confidant, a woman who still smiled from portraits on Alex's apartment wall. He had flinched away from her embrace, but perhaps only out of surprise; what could a creature like this know about physical contact? Its first memories were of hatred, of being shot at, treated like an animal. She knew it was mostly a product of its environment, and for that, she had almost pitied it.

Alex growled, bringing her abruptly back. He was glaring at her still, his impatience obvious, but for some reason she no longer felt afraid. She moved, slowly, raising her arm, noting the way Alex's eyes narrowed even further, his lip curling back in a scowl. Then, her palm met his cheek, softly, a feathering touch, and he flinched away. She froze, almost as surprised as he was, but there was no turning back now. There was something even more deadly in his expression, now void of emotion, blue eyes following her hand, running along the arm until they locked gazes. She only stared back at him, hand cupping his cheek, the pad of her thumb stroking soft circles on his lower lip. Ironically, her Alex would never have tolerated this kind of intimacy.

"I am sorry, Alex," she said, almost a whisper. Alex jerked away from her, putting a few feet between them, shoulders strangely hunched. He didn't meet her gaze as his form began to shift, the leather of his jacket writhing, black and red strands separating and dissolving, hands and fingers elongating and sharpening, flesh turning hard and black. He flexed his claws and glanced in her direction; then, the claws were shifting again, one hand regrowing its human-like fingers and the other lengthening, claws melting together to form a two-sided blade almost as long as he was tall. And still, he wasn't finished; as she watched he kept shifting: hands turning into clubs, then blackened armor sprouting from his shoulders, creeping along his skin until he was covered completely, then melting away once again into the uniform of a Blackwatch soldier. Finally, he returned to his default form, looking at her almost defiantly as he took in her confused, disgusted expression.

"What the fuck gives you the right to be sorry?" he growled, clenching his hands into fists, yet he still kept his distance. "You set me up- you knew Blackwatch was trying to kill me, and you went along with it. You can't fucking say you're _sorry._"

She opened her mouth to reply, and Alex moved, so quickly, only a blur to her eyes as he closed the distance between them. Then, a hand was grasping her neck, pulling her forward, the other hand morphing into a blade. She could feel the edge pressing into her stomach, cutting through her blouse; then, as suddenly as he had begun, Alex froze, only his rasping breath cutting through the silence.

Karen looked into his eyes, choking, hands clutching the blade impaling her as blood began to well up from the wound, slowly, seeping into fabric and trickling down her waist. He held her as her vision began to dim, leaning forward until his forehead met hers. She closed her eyes one last time, and for a moment her Alex was with her, sleeping softly by her side: so close, so distant, so alone.


End file.
